by Julia Rampen
In an old-fashioned fishing community on windswept Morecambe Bay, change is imperceptibly slow. Treacherous tides sweep the quicksands, claiming everything in their path. As a small boy, Harold had naturally followed in his father’s and grandfather’s footprints, learning to read the currents and shifting sands.
Now retired and widowed, though, Harold feels tired, invisible, redundant. His daughter wants him safely tucked in a home. No one listens to his rants about the ill-prepared newcomers striking out nightly onto the bay for cockles, seemingly oblivious to the danger.
When Harold’s path crosses Suling’s, both are almost out of options. Barely yet an adult, Suling’s hopes for a better life have given way to fear: she’s without papers or money, speaks no English, and debt collectors are hunting her down. Her only choice is to trust the old man.
Combining warmth and tension and recalling a true incident, The Bay tells a tender story about loneliness, confronting prejudice, and the comfort of friendship, however unlikely—as well as exposing one of the most pressing social ills of our age.